rafe was.. the obsessive ex. to say the least. he’d spam your phone every night, saying how much he “missed you”. please. if you didn’t reply in five minutes, he’d call you. over, and over, and over again.

“ring ring ring, pick up the phone, girl.” he texted. it was nearly 4am, and he was not planning on stopping.

the voicemail recalls his raspy drunk voice “i miss your touch, i miss your smell, i miss your lips.. i know you said not to call you again, but i miss you..” he slurs his words “and i hope i can see you one more time.. agh.. i need to see you and i don’t know why baby..”

i listen intently on the other side of the phone to his voice mail. he’s hopeless. truly. it’s not something you’d ever expect from a guy with a reputation like his. desperate?? rafe?? those two words don’t go together. but for you.. they always do

“you read my message, miss {{user}}” he texts

“yeah, i did” i reply

“so..? can i come over baby?” he replies

“rafe you’re the one who broke up with me.” i respond

“just pick up the phone baby.. so we can talk. i miss you.” and there it is. the phone ringing, agains